


Hand of God

by sassysatsuma



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, alternative after pylos fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 13:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassysatsuma/pseuds/sassysatsuma
Summary: Takes place directly after the Battle of Pylos. With Brasidas injured, Kassandra is forced to imagine a world which might not have him in it. Fluff ensues. A drabble prompt fill for daomi. Technically AU because I'm messing with canon again.





	Hand of God

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for the lovely daomi on tumblr! The brief was Kassandra and Brasidas patching each other up after a battle and although my muse kinda went and did its own thing a bit with this one I hope it hits the mark with the heartwarming angst and fluff you were looking for! 
> 
> As always, my Kassidas drabbles are separate to Follow You. :) 
> 
> -x-Sass-x-

In amongst the spilt blood and bone of the battle for Pylos, Kassandra’s heart had stopped in her chest.

It had beat once, forceful beneath her ribcage, her eyes fixed upon her lover as he tumbled to the floor, a ragdoll at the end of Alexios’ blade. His body had been still, hauntingly so, blood staining his armour as it seeped from his wounds and into the earth. The world had stood still then, held in place by her bated breath. When he continued to be still, she had willed her own heart to never beat again if he had truly been taken from her.

There would be nothing left for her in a world that didn’t have him in it.

But then Brasidas groaned, writhed in pain and suddenly there was _hope_. A reason to fight, a reason to survive and a reason to win. A reason to cross swords with her own flesh and blood. Kassandra had not been in control of her own legs as she had run headfirst into that fight, throwing aside every ounce of battlefield guile and cunning that their father had fought so hard to teach her.

Alexios hadn’t been her brother then. He had been _Deimos_ , the Cult’s right hand and the epitome of everything that she despised. With his blade coated in Brasidas’ blood, it was so easy to fight him amongst the fire and smoke, too easy to forget the bonds that bound them. He had tried to take her heart from her and in her wrath, Kassandra would have happily cut his still beating from his chest.

It didn’t come to that and in truth, Kassandra was glad. Her brother’s blood would have forever stained her hands, never to be scrubbed clean. Instead, the Gods had granted them a chance reprieve, Deimos caught beneath a felled tree, badly damaged in the battle’s flames. In a moment of brief clarity, she’d run to aid him, but before she’d been able, he’d been recovered by Athenian soldiers, hauled from the battlefield still screaming for her blood.

With him gone, her world shifted focus, feet carrying her to Brasidas’ side. He was still lying as he’d fallen, the strength that she both loved and admired fading fast. With him in her arms, nothing else had mattered, his blood warm and sticky as it coated her hands. She’d heard the Spartans call for surrender over the clamour of battle, had screamed at the top of her lungs for the soldiers closest to come to her aid. With Brasidas draped across her shoulders, his dead weight pushing her down into the earth, she’d retreated with the soldiers at her flanks, defending her from any Athenian fool enough to chase them down.

The Spartans were lost, routed without their general. Many had seen fit to follow Kassandra and they had pushed further into the cover of the woods, running as far as their legs could carry them until the bloodthirsty Athenians finally called off their pursuit.

From that moment on, Brasidas’ fate had been in the hands of his healers and of the Gods. Kassandra had never placed all that much faith in them, had always chosen action over prayer. But that night, cold and alone, she made offerings to both Apollo and Asklepios, entreating the father and son to intervene on her behalf, to save the one man she couldn’t bear to exist without. Hands coated in the mixed blood of Brasidas’ and the goat she had sacrificed on his behalf, she’d held her hands to the heavens hopelessly, truly begging for the first time in her life.

She’d never cared to ask the Gods for anything, but that night she would have given anything for them to hear her prayers.

The Gods answered come the morning, after a night filled with feverish sleeplessness. As a blood red sun rose higher in the sky, Kassandra made her way into the makeshift healing tent the Spartan’s had constructed, silently terrified of what sight might greet her.

Instead, she was met with a smile, strained across, pallid features, but _his_ smile nonetheless. It had been that smile she had first fallen in love with, all those months ago, a mixture of creased skin and softness that pulled at her heartstrings in a way that no other could.

“I’d stand but…” Brasidas was joking, albeit weakly. He shifted awkwardly on his makeshift bed, batting away the healers who attempted to help him. “They tell me my leg isn’t strong enough.”

“And you listened?” Kassandra cocked an eyebrow, the joke at least helping her hide her true emotions.

“The pain helps…” He shrugged but then immediately winced, his hand reaching up towards his right shoulder, wound up tight in bandages that covered where Deimos’ first blow had struck. His next words were less good humoured, directed at the healers that littered the tent like flies. “Leave us. Anything I need now, Kassandra can surely provide.”

She smiled at that.

Shielded from prying eyes, she could finally hold him. Moving tentatively to his side, she leaned over his body, ever careful that she didn’t pressure his injuries. Kissing him didn’t feel real in her sleep deprived mind, her lips pressed firmly against those which she’d feared lost barely hours before. It was difficult to tear herself away, her mouth greedy for more of him to reassure her heart. In consolation she kept their faces close, her forehead pressed against the top of his head as her hand stroked gently at his cheek.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“Hades didn’t want me.” He chuckled softly, bringing her hand to his lips so that he could kiss her palm. “Or so the healers told me.”

“You were lucky.”

“I don’t feel it.” He shook his head, watching her closely as she moved to sit at his side. “But at least your brother missed my sword arm.”

“He cut almost everything else.”

“Many of my men suffered worse.” Brasidas shrugged, almost hiding the wince that followed the movement from her gaze. “He fights with the same fire as you.”

“You should have left him to me. He’s _my_ burden… not yours.”

“Is it wrong for me to want to spare you that?” He looked at her seriously, his brow knitted in concern. “It’s a heavy thing, to fight someone you once loved. I thought that if I fought him, _killed_ him then you would never have to.”

“… You’re a general first.”

“And he was cutting his way through my men too. I had just cause to confront him. But it’s hard to pretend that you had no part in my decision either.” He smiled, taking her hand in his. “As you are a part of every decision I make these days.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Perhaps, but it was the Fates who decided that I would fall in love with a _mistios_. Who am I to argue?”

Kassandra was at a loss how to reply, her words stolen from her by his smile and the warmth of his hand around hers. Instead, she pressed closer again, kissing him with every emotion that consumed her thoughts. Her lips lingered against his, tasting as much as she was able, her left hand mussing through the short hair atop his head. Her other hand found his bare chest, fingers splayed above his still beating heart, finger tips grazing through the short hair that covered his skin there. Beneath her touch, Brasidas shuddered, his skin pebbling into gooseflesh. Breaking their kiss at last, Kassandra couldn’t help but smile, returning the love that filled his eyes with the gesture.

“I love you.” Her words were plain, almost stern, but Brasidas understood her meaning entirely. “But take risks like that again and I will march into Hades myself and drag you straight back into the land of the living.”

“You do have a habit of achieving the impossible.”

“Only when fools like you make it a necessity. I’d prefer an easy life, somewhere quiet with plenty of wine.”

“Quiet? _You?_ ” He laughed, groaning when the shaking of his chest tugged at his tight bandages. “Is there room in this wine filled dream for two?”

“You’ve been a part of that dream for a while.” Kassandra watched the amusement in his features shift into something more in response to her words. “ _You’re_ the future I’m fighting for.”

“And you say that I’m the fool.” Brasidas’ voice was hoarse, his eyes filled with love. “But you know that I want nothing more than to stay by your side.”

“Then maybe next time don’t be so quick to leave it. I’m nothing without you, Spartan. Perhaps it’s about time we both learned to accept that.”

There were no more words after that, simply more feverish kisses shared in the dim light of the tent. As the sun continued its journey upwards into the sky, Brasidas tired, falling into a heavy slumber as his body fought to heal. His ever-present guardian, Kassandra stayed by his side, smoothing the hair from his forehead and bathing his sweat coated skin with a damp cloth when it was needed. When he did awaken, she made sure he drank his fill of water, leaving his bedside only to refill his animal skin and bring him a plate of food to pick at when he was able.

When night returned, she slept by his side, her head pressed against his shoulder, body curled against his to protect against the cool night time air that filled the tent. It was the most soundly she had slept in some time, her dreams consumed with thoughts of the shared future they’d spoken of.

In the morning, there would be decisions to make and journeys to consider. The consequences of Pylos couldn’t be outrun forever. But in the darkness of their shared tent, Kassandra was content to let those concerns fade. With Brasidas still by her side, there was no choice too great, no future too unnerving to contemplate. He was her strength, her heart. Her _peace_. For the moment at least, she could rest easy in the warmth of knowing that he was still ever present at her side.  

 


End file.
